


The Fantasies of Friendship.

by Caspian_Faurus



Category: Metal Gear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 07:28:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caspian_Faurus/pseuds/Caspian_Faurus
Summary: This is a work with its foundations in the most Christmas-sy of classic stories: A Christmas Carol.In this story, Snake is our Scrooge.One restless limbo wanderer, and three spirits will come to him, and make him look back with some regret on the one thing he did often in his life: give his friends and colleagues the cold shoulder, and tried his best to tug away from their comforting companionship and concern.After all, Christmas is a time better than any other to learn the value of all friendship bestows upon oneself: unrelenting support, a steady helping hand, and finally - making life just a lot more better.





	1. Just a Prologue.

### Just a Prologue.

"Snake... you're not going to join us?"  
"No."  
"But... this should be important to you..."  
"Otacon. You know how much I hate parties."  
"I know! But this..."  
"Could be my last? Yeah, just say it."  
"I won't..."  
"I'm not going."  
"If not for me, then can you come for everyone else?"  
"I don't care."

Adamantly, Snake closed his eyes and laid back on the couch.  
For him, the conversation was over.

Both Otacon and Sunny looked at each other with great distress.  
But there was no convincing him. There never was.

They bowed their heads and began to walk towards the plane's exit wordlessly, guilt stirring within them.  
Sunny tightly clutched Otacon's hand.

The door quietly shut behind the forlorn pair.

**\------**

Once they'd left, Snake's thoughts roared up to fill the silence.

What even was so special about Christmas?  
Snake had rarely ever understood.

In the distant past, it was a time where his meals at the army mess were just a little more bearable. The chef was awful at making the Christmas cakes though; it was useless to expect anything actually memorable.

The other young cadets would try to keep merry, but mostly stayed gloomy upon the sight of the parcels sent from their good old families.  
This wasn't true for young David, though. He took everyone's preoccupied states to steal their cigarettes.

Hey, if they got presents, so should he!

Out of training and right into retirement after Outer Heaven, Snake would never even realize when it was Christmas; unless his Canadian neighbors sent their children on his doorstep to sing carols.  
He would never even open the door for them.

One Christmas, Gray Fox had sent him a short letter. Nothing else. 

Later, Master Miller only echoed his feelings about the holiday. An embittered soul, who saw only horribly nostalgic memories in celebrations.

It was only Hal who'd actually tried to get his friend to be a part of the cheer.  
But by that time, Snake saw no point at all. To him, it was only puzzling.

Why claim to not be religious but devoutly celebrate that holiday?  
Why was it forced on all kinds of people all over the world?  
Why was it so easy to encourage anyone to spend on presents that would be thrown away the day next because they didn't work anymore?

Once his body had aged and freed from the battlefield, Snake had even less reason to want to join in.  
Gatherings with his friends made him uncomfortable...  
Somehow or the other, everyone would turn their eyes to him, and expect him to do... something! He could never tell what they wanted...


	2. Adamska's Ghost.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Marley to Snake's Scrooge first makes an appearance - a restrained ghost of a withered Revolver Ocelot, who feels nothing but spite and misery at his seemingly eternal curse of wandering the world without judgement.
> 
> Snake - needless to say - is in shock of this apparition's visit.  
> What was happening?! Why was it here?   
> Was it really not his tired mind imagining things that weren't there?  
> Should he believe the words that the restless ghost heeds him with?
> 
> And finally... was anything going to come of this?

As he thought back, he sensed himself sway in the breezes of drowsiness.  
It was as if even thinking made him exhausted now...  
The soft rings of his wristwatch, warning him of the midnight hour, failed to bat away the sleep.

That was, until a large clank in the air made him jump to alertness.

What was that?!

He sat up quickly, and tried to find a source of the noise.  
The clanks were distant...  
Somewhere above him!?

He got off the couch, and began to creep towards the steps that led to the hold upstairs.

The clanks seemed to be coming closer too!

He didn't have his gun on him, but his fists were prepared.

As he reached the foot of the staircase, the noise stopped.  
He could hear... breathing!  
The breaths were loud and coarse.

He looked up, and felt like his heart exploded.

The figure was tall, decorated with chains, and translucent; shining without a light to create the lustre.  
Snake tried hard to focus on its face.  
A long haired, mustachioed... old man!

"O-O-Ocelot?!" he choked.  
"I'm surprised you still remember me, Snake."

The ghost's tone of voice was not smug or proud. It was a simple, distant echo.  
Blatantly miserable.

"What the hell...??"  
Snake's one knee buckled under him. He grasped the railings to balance himself just in time.  
"You can't be real!" he wheezed.

"I'm not. I am only... a spirit. Visible and audible just to you by choice." the ghost retorted.  
"Of course... since you're a hallucination!"  
"I am not that either."

Ocelot began to descend the steps. His chains made a racket on them.  
Snake staggered up, and began to back away.

"Why are you here..." were his whispers.  
"Before I explain... look at me."

Once at the last step, Ocelot turned to face Snake; the latter had his back to the former, gripping his friend's swiveling chair with white knuckles.

Snake tilted his head only a little.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the misty visage once more.  
Chains and large padlocks covered his entire form, apart from his head.  
The largest lock rested right above his chest - his heart.

"See these? I've been cursed with a chained afterlife."  
"H-Huh..."  
"Want to know why?"  
"Sure. Why the hell would I not want to?"  
Snake was trying to steel himself, but his head was reeling.

Ocelot spoke on without affect.  
"Just a result of how I had locked my true self up from everyone I'd met in my life."  
"Th-That... sounds about right..."  
"And now, look! The results of all that!"  
"You sound very different from the true Ocelot!"  
"True Ocelot? Did you ever know him?!"

The chains clanked as angrily as the spirit's voice in emphasis.

"Not even I know the true Ocelot anymore, Snake! All I know now is that I'm a wailing haunter, and God only knows for how long I'll be like this!"  
"And why're you here now?!"  
"To warn you of this fate!"

Snake let out a bitter laugh at that.  
He let the pinch he inflicted upon himself to grow in intensity; it sure hurt.

"Warn me? Ha!"  
"Don't want to hear it from me? No problem, then. Three others will come too!"  
"Three others?! What??"

He finally turned, now shaken.  
What kind of a nightmare was this!?

Ocelot looked heated, and was pointing a finger at him.

"Yes! Three others, Snake! They'll teach you your lesson!"  
"Lesson to what?!"  
"To not chaining your soul and feelings deep within yourself!"

Ocelot looked around for a wall-clock, but failed to spot any.  
He continued nonetheless.

"The chime to one... the chime to two... and the chime to three! It's going to be a long night, Solid Snake!" he spat, annoyed by the constant disbelief from the side of his audience. "It's going to be a looong night!"

Snake let himself quiver, but stared determinedly in the ghostly eyes of the dead man.  
They spoke nothing.

He kept staring on until the spirit began to fade in its spot, letting out forced wails of despair.

**\------**

He fell on the floor on his knees, shaking hard, and ignoring the bump his foot met with Otacon's chair.  
What had just happened?

Had he had a bad dream? Or was his head finally losing its semblance, age crawling upon it with rapid scuttles?

He looked at the watch clamped on his quaking right wrist.  
It was 00:19.

This would restart presumably at 1 am. He prayed Otacon and Sunny would be back by then to quell his timed visions.

He staggered over to the couch nearby and tossed himself on to it, trying to breathe.  
His dizziness would not dissipate.

"Just... just forget that happened..." he repeatedly grunted to himself, squeezing his eyes tightly in defiance.

But he couldn't!  
The words of the strange ghost rang within his head, screaming its warnings.

Warnings to what exactly?!

His mind ran wilder with its imagination.  
Maybe... maybe it was a hologram Sunny and Hal had created as a prank!? Telling him to not be? grumpy so much!??  
Maybe it was a mind-trick being played by Psycho Mantis; who was likely concealed within the plane and screwing with him?!

He almost felt like finding a way to contact Hal and call him back.

No... he'd be fine...  
He'd handled worse, hadn't he? What were some harmless ghosts with faces of his old enemies going to do to him?

The next few moments were the peaceful he'd have so far, and really the most peaceful he'd have for the rest of the night.


	3. Of a Christmas Past.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> True to Ocelot's word, the first spirit makes her appearance at the chime of 01:00 am.  
> The spirit of a girl whose life was torn apart right before she could celebrate the day she anticipated the most: a day of peace.
> 
> Snake knows nothing of her, however, and nor does she of him - but the former's codename has an extremely strong ring of familiarity to her...
> 
> She takes him on a trip down memory lane: one lonely Christmas young David experienced at the Green Cadets.

His watch rang out in the pin-drop silence.  
01:00 am.

Snake opened his eyes wide, and sat up.

The moment his timepiece fell quiet, his ears picked up on soft footfalls.  
Once more, on the storey upstairs.

He didn't bother to go closer to the sound, only seated in wait.  
The leather of the couch squeaked under the grip his hands had on it.

His eyes whisked over to the stairs.

Finally, a glowing bare foot appeared.  
Then, another.  
Then, a slim leg, covered in part by a skirt.

Snake didn't need to see her face to guess what kind of a person this would be.  
A young, but not too young, female.

"Hola!" spoke out the ghost cheerily, which soon halted itself at the edge of the last step.  
Just like Ocelot had done...

Snake was prepared this time.

The girl had hair that frizzed around her face; her facial features dainty and sweet.  
She wore something that looked a lot like a uniform.  
He placed her at around fifteen or sixteen...

What kind of a person had his head cooked up?!

He stood up, unwilling to return the greeting.

The ghost smiled wide nonetheless, and waved as a beckon to him.  
"Come quick! We have a trip to take!" Her voice was laden with a foreign accent.

"A trip...?" Snake hesitantly inquired, humoring his hallucination with regret and daring to walk closer.  
"Yes indeed, a trip! And we don't have much time!"

Snake took his time, but eventually reached her.

She grabbed at his arm!  
He tried to recoil, but felt nothing wrap itself around his bicep to struggle against.

He looked up, and was surprised to see everything in his vision whirling. Apart from the girl.

**\------**

The room that swam into vision was dark, musty and messy.  
Snake could smell nothing. 

One glance at his hand gave him a small shock.  
It was transparent!

The ghost next to him tugged at his sweater; he could actually feel her now.  
"Let's go!" she called out, and exited the room with hasty skips.

Snake groaned internally, and followed her.

The corridor outside was better lit, and grew brighter ahead.  
Why did it seem so... familiar?

The girl kept running ahead, not looking back to see if he was caught up to her or not.  
As if she knew he'd follow already.

But she stopped before the end of the corridor - in front of a door.  
Snake stopped too.  
He realized what he was staring at, and felt dread wash over him.

The Green Cadet bunkers he'd thought back about not too long ago...

"Should we knock?" his mysterious companion cheekily inquired.  
Snake was too dumbfounded to answer.  
She shrugged and walked straight through the metal instead, pulling him by the hand.

The room they entered now was a little better lit with a small bulb on the ceiling. The floor was strewn with clothes and litter; the bed was barely distinguishable.

"My my, how messy!" the girl giggled, and seated next to the only person in the room.

Snake looked at the person with bowed eyes.

He was huddled in a corner of the room on the floor, annoyed at the cigarette in his mouth that refused to light.

"Damn lighter..." he was muttering, until he finally flung it at the facing wall in frustration.  
Snake watched it go fly, and leave a new crack on the weak wall.

He'd always had a strong arm.

The boy spat out the cigarette out of his mouth, and stared at it disappointedly.  
The ghostly girl next to him patted his head in consolation - not that he ever felt it.

There was a sudden harsh knock on the door. Both the person and the girl jumped, but Snake stood sturdy.  
He knew what that knock meant.

"Lights out!" yelled a coarse voice outside.

Young David sighed and reached for the dirty switch above him, before standing up.  
The room fell into pitch darkness.

He threw himself on what he hoped was the bed. He was successful.

Outside, loud chatter seemed to be passing his room.  
"... a sweater again!"  
"Man, why do all parents send sweaters?!..."  
"Don't know man, they should know we've outgrown crummy cheap cloth!"

The voices laughed out loud as they faded into the distance.  
The female spirit tutted in the quiet.  
"It's the thought that counts!" she chastised to no one.

The figure lying on the bed rustled, struggling with his tangled sheets.  
Clearly, something ailed his mood.

Snake sat himself down at the edge of the bed, and stared at the outline of the young man.

And laid a hand on his covered leg.

"Why's he so sad?" the nameless girl asked.  
"He's... alone." was the simple reply.  
"Alone? He could have been out there, having fun with everyone else!"  
"He didn't want to..."  
"But, you said he's alone!"

Snake sighed.  
The eternal struggle in his life.

"It's just who he is..."  
"Well, he should change! Staying all alone by himself won't do him good!"  
"He didn't see the point of having friends. They'd all very likely die soon. This was war."  
"That's just being selfish even to himself! How odd!"  
"Yeah, he was odd..."

The girl pouted, and shook her head.  
"Hmph, this is boring! And here I thought I was going to witness a fun celebration!"  
"He's not one for fun."  
"Clearly!"

She huffed, and walked over to him.  
"It's time to go now." She took his hand, and pulled his reluctant form from the bed.

Snake kept staring down at the boy huddled in the sheets, stifling the coughs from the cold he was always vulnerable to.

**\------**

The dark room blurred gradually, transforming their environment once more.  
They were soon back in Nomad, standing where they'd last stood; the adult of the pair no longer a ghost like his companion.

Snake's eyes were low, and sad.

He'd always lied to himself about his loneliness, hadn't he?

The girl waved a white hand in front of his wandering eyes, and shrugged.  
"It's time for me to go, sir."  
"Snake."  
"O-Oh, Snake?"  
"Yeah..."

He missed the slightly cloudy expression that had come over her.

"W-Well, farewell, Snake! And Happy Christmas!"  
"Yeah, b-bye..."

His thoughts probed him too much.


	4. Of a Christmas Present.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round two.  
> This time, it is the ghost of - oddly enough - Naomi Hunter.
> 
> Suppressing her memories and nostalgia, she leads Snake to where his friends went to partake in Christmas celebrations: the home of the Sasakis.  
> Snake finds himself witnessing a forlorn gathering, missing the presence of two of their friends.
> 
> Their low moods strike at Snake's heart with somewhat unexpected might.

Snake dragged his feet back to the couch.  
He already felt tired.

What were these strange trials his mind was putting him through tonight?  
He was a mess...

As he laid down, he found himself checking his watch again.

01:07 am. Time seemed to have stopped while he was away... Hal and Sunny still weren't back.

He shut his eyes in defeat, and thought.

He saw his young self once more. Huddled all by himself in his small room, laden with a heavy heart.

He'd been harder on himself than he should have been...

The curtains of sleep ambushed his conscience, and made him doze off...

**\------**

"H-Huh?"  
Nothing had woken him, but he sat up with a jolt nonetheless.  
He'd fallen asleep!

Quickly, Snake checked his watch.

02:01 am.  
Just in time!

He looked up, straining his ears for the sound of footsteps or any voices.  
None came...

Was he freed? Had it all really been a dream?

He lay back down again, his eyes on the steps in the other side of the room.

He'd almost settled back into a nap when his ears pricked.  
Loud rustles, coming from upstairs!

Snake couldn't help but grunt.  
It wasn't over yet!

Once again, a luminous form rushed down the staircase with a clatter. Snake deduced that the shoes had heels.  
Hesitantly, he stood up, examining the new figure that stood at the last step.

And was surprised at who he saw.

The ghost wore a long coat, covering what she wore underneath.  
Her head was hooded by a shawl.

"N-Naomi...?"  
"Yes, Snake... just a moment..."

She bent down and clutched her side, nursing a stitch.  
Snake used her pause to recover from his shock.

"Alright, I'm better now! Sorry for that!" she straightened, grinning sheepishly.  
"Why're you here...?"  
"Oh, I was sent to you to take you somewhere."  
"Somewhere?"  
"Indeed! Come, there's not much time!"

As always with her, her happiness looked forced.

Snake let her take his arm.

**\------**

The environment swirled and heaved, transforming just like before.

Where they stood now was a warmly lit nook, with a few dressers and a double bed.  
Naomi's ghost calmly walked over to the room's door, drawing her coat tighter on her form.

Snake silently followed. He knew the drill this time.

They went along a short corridor, and passed through a door to their left.  
They'd entered a bright room, medium in size. A large table with eight chairs filled the centerpiece.  
All the chairs were occupied by people bent over nearly full plates.

Snake was taken aback to see who all were seated, and tried to turn away to leave.  
Naomi took a tight hold of his arm.  
"Stop." was her soft command.

"Where's old Campbell?" someone asked. Snake knew that person very well.  
"Ah, he had a cold. He wanted to come, but I wouldn't let him step out."  
"Oh dear, I hope he gets well soon..."  
The others at the table silently nodded.

The silence that had settled took a few moments to break.

"This roast is just... I have no words, Meryl!"  
"See, I told you I could cook!"  
"I'd never doubted you, though!"  
Most of those seated politely laughed along.  
Apart from one.

"Jack? You feeling alright?"  
"Yeah..."  
"You sure?"  
"Honestly..."  
"Alright... you looked like something was bothering you, though."

Snake stayed turned away from the table, but he could seemingly smell Raiden's discomfort.

Jack cleared his throat. "Hey, Otacon?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Where's Snake?"

Naomi squeezed the grip she had on Snake, almost like a signal.  
Wearily, he nodded.

"Oh... he wasn't feeling too well."  
"Got a cold too?" Meryl quickly asked.  
Everyone was looking at Otacon and Sunny in curiosity.

"No... w-well, yeah..." Hal wasn't a good liar.  
"He was sleepy..." Sunny tried to cover for her guardian weakly.

Snake pulled himself free from his ghostly friend's hand, and finally walked out.  
Naomi sighed, and followed him.

"It was good seeing all of them again." she desperately tried to stop him in the corridor outside.  
"Whatever." Snake muttered in reply. "Can we go back now?"  
"Not yet, Snake."  
"Why not? I've seen what I had to see."  
"You haven't. Otherwise, you wouldn't be this way."  
"Be like what?!"  
"You mean a lot to your friends. They're nothing without you."  
"Well, they'll have to learn. I won't be around much longer!"  
"You won't give them your company even when you are around?"

Snake sighed angrily.

"I want to be alone, dammit." he said with some finality. He was tired of arguing.  
"But, they don't." Naomi quietly retorted.

Snake looked away, silent.

The room behind them was uneasily silent too; only the plates softly clanked.

Naomi looked to the side, and sighed. She'd given up too.  
"Let's go back home, Snake..."

Snake nodded, and let her take his hand.

The scenery shifted, although slower than before.

**\------**

Snake was relieved when they arrived.  
He glanced at Naomi once more, still unable to get over the fact that she was here.

Naomi looked disappointed.  
"One day you will learn, Snake. The value of friendship is priceless. Don't forego it so easily."  
"I know..."  
"Not yet, no. Maybe when you're like me, you will..."

Sadness was etched on her ghostly face, but she concealed it; drawing the hood over her head closer.

"Anyway, I must get going. Farewell."  
"Mmh..."

Her frame faded into thin air, as she waved her last.

**\------**

It was only once she'd departed that he budged from where he stood.

He didn't lie down on the couch this time. Rather, he sat on his friend's chair.  
He stared at the dark monitors on the desk in front of him.

They all did mean a lot to him...  
He wished they didn't. 

It hurt...  
It hurt them when he pushed them away like they were nothing...  
It hurt him too.

He grunted, and rested his head on the desk.

His watch ticked at 02:10 am.


	5. Of a Christmas Yet to Come.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the chime of 03:00, appears the final apparition.
> 
> Its entry is noisy and unannounced - almost rude. Needless to say, it fails to make a good first impression upon Snake.  
> The figure is formless and faceless, and indifferent to Snake's queries.
> 
> It takes him to a Christmas day in the future, at a gloomy graveyard.  
> Snake is quick to realize where they arrive - the familiar form of Otacon is near their eyes, bent in front of a gravestone.
> 
> The spirit probes and provokes Snake with deliberate intent, reciting his own cynical thoughts and attitude towards everything and everyone.  
> Snake finds it all hard to swallow when confronted with it all.

Snake wondered why neither of them had returned yet. It was nearing 3.  
Why were they taking so long...?   
Was their meal that uncomfortable to take in?

In his heart... he missed them.

What he'd seen so far, was making him rethink a lot.  
He'd always lied to himself that he was fine being all alone.

But had he ever been that way?  
Every step, he'd had friends and colleagues to guide him.  
Even when he'd isolated himself in Alaska, he'd needed dogs to give him company. 

He'd have been nothing without his friends, who stuck with him through nearly everything...

He looked up at the photo frame Hal had set next to the monitors.

Two of those in the shot were smiling widely, holding up victory signs with their fingers.  
A third was trying his best to duck out, but his shoulder had unfortunately been caught.

He raised his head, and snatched up a notebook from the desk, then quickly tore out a page. Pens were in no shortage on the messy table.

Only by help of his adjusted eyes, he stared at the white sheet of paper.  
Maybe he should use his hands for something actually beneficial this time...

But what would he say...?

**\------**

Suddenly, a loud thud broke the serene silence of the plane.  
The pen nearly fell from Snake's trembling hand in shock.

He checked his watch, thinking he knew the problem.  
02:36 am. He predicted things wrong.

He threw his pen aside and stood up, running towards the steps leading upstairs.  
Had Hal and Sunny come back when he wasn't looking? Was someone trying to break in?

Another thud confirmed that he hadn't just heard things at least the first time around.

Once on the second storey, he strained his ears and eyes to spot the culprit.  
He saw no one, but a pan on the kitchenette seemed to swoop off where it rested and landed on the floor with a clank.

Who was doing this?!

Snake reached forward to touch the air right in front of the kitchenette, but felt nothing.  
"Who's there?!" he blurted out, steeling himself.  
No reply came.

He looked around the hold once more.  
"Show yourself!" he called out once more.

Something brushed against his shoulder!  
He quickly turned on his heels, and choked.

The intruder had listened to him!

It wore a long black cloak, covering each inch of its form - even its feet and hands. The hood it had pulled over its head was huge, hiding its entire face from view.  
What was remarkable about this garb was the padlock pendant around the neck.  
Apart from this odd accessory, nothing glowed luminous white like the spirits he had met so far had.

It stood at the surprised man's exact height.

Snake tried to calm his breathing. "You're early." he muttered.  
The ghost let out a soft, dismissive grunt in response.  
The voice was utterly cracked and low. It was impossible to tell if the ghost was male or female.

"So, where to?" Snake dared venture.  
The cloak moved; it was shrugging.  
"What?" he snapped in impatience.

The arms moved, digging into what Snake presumed were pockets, and brought out a cigarette and lighter.  
Snake was awed!

Invisible fingers lit the cigarette, and brought it close to the hood's gap.  
Snake checked his watch. 02:49.  
So... the thing was just going to have a smoke until it was time?  
Why was it early, anyway?! 

"You're going to say something, or... do you want me to make you?" Snake boldly retorted to the silence he was being given.  
"You can wait, can't you?" the ghost answered! It sounded just as grumpy!  
"I can't, actually. I have a one-way ticket to hell booked for sometime soon." came the calmly angry jab.  
"For an old man, you sure like to take things fast."  
"Shut up!"  
"Make me!"  
"Hngh...!!"

The ghost then let out a puff of air at Snake's face.  
The latter could feel or smell none of it, but felt ticked off at the direspectful gesture.

He couldn't help a sense of silent triumphance when the spirit then coughed.  
It threw the cigarette behind it without finishing it - it mysteriously disappeared in thin air.  
"Let's go..." it mumbled, and grabbed at Snake's hand without warning.

He could feel the touch this time - frosty and damp.

**\------**

Instead of whirling and whooshing, the environment faded and grew gloomy.  
The plane melted downwards and disappeared into the ground.

Where they finally stood was a place in full grayscale - surrounded by graves and trees.

Snake guessed the place immediately.

He turned and saw him.  
It all fell into place.

"My future permanent residence, isn't it?" he commented, trying to keep his voice steady.  
"Sure is." the ghost replied with equal nonchalance.

The person in front of them knelt before a grave, holding onto the stone with one hand.  
He seemed to be speaking, but Snake could hear none of it.

"Why can't I hear him?"  
"The words aren't for you to hear."  
"Because I'll be dead when they're uttered?"  
"No."  
"Then?"  
"You would see no value in them, that's why. What's the use?"

Snake couldn't help feel offended and irritated.  
He'd heard that too many times tonight!

"Try me." he grumbled.  
"Like I said, no use."  
"You like to toy with me, don't you?"  
"I don't like anything. The world and anything in it is too terrible to like."  
"Weird thing for a ghost to say."  
"Oh, I've seen enough of the world. Nothing but wars and disease."  
"Jesus-"  
"You'd agree though, right? Friendships are a sham, competition is survival of the fittest, calamities a way to wipe out the excess."  
"No, that's not true!"  
"It's not?"  
"It isn't!"  
"Are you naive enough to think that everyone deserves to live?"  
"Yes!"  
"You truly believe that? You, Solid Snake?"  
"I do believe that!"

The ghost tutted under its breath and fell silent.

Snake couldn't help thinking that all of this was deliberate.  
Was the ghost trying to tell him something?

He turned to look at Otacon's gray figure, still bent over the grave.  
He was clearly crying.

**\------**

"What a wimp." the ghost mocked.  
"Shut it." Snake found himself replying.  
"Don't tell me you've not called him that before."  
"I-I have..."  
"Then you agree he is a wimp. He still needs to man up."  
"Grr..."  
"He needs to stop crying over spilt milk and actually move on. So what if nearly anything he touches turns to ash?"  
"Shut up!"  
"Oh oh, sticking up for your friend, are you?"   
"I-"

The ghost turned away from him before he could continue, and resumed its jeering.  
"Why does everyone you've ever met have to be so... weak? So ridden with emotion, so burdened by desire?"

Snake had guessed right.  
The ghost was actually him - a manifestation of his most bitter of thoughts.  
The pendant was a symbol of its completely chained up spirit, closed to everything around it.

"The women you met kept trying to cling onto you - they were such big obstacles in your path! Won't stop their incessant weeping, their pleas for comfort! They just wanted you to know how much they loved you, hoping that your heart would melt!"

The ghost then again turned to Snake, whose head was slightly bowed, and tapped on his chest as it laughed.  
"They never would listen when you told them you didn't even have the heart they were trying to melt!"

It then turned to Hal, who was covering his face with a handkerchief as he knelt.  
"That wimp was no different! He kept trying, constantly trying, to worm his way into your good books! What did he expect? That a cold, empty man like you would somehow magically make his pain go away?"  
"Stop..." Snake whispered uselessly.  
"No, Solid Snake! Nothing can stop me - I stop for no one! Not even for you!"  
"I know..."

He let himself be shoved forward by the ghost, towards Otacon. His form was too limp.

"What do you think is all the use of all that crying and sobbing he's doing? He's talking to himself! So pointless!"  
Snake didn't fight back.

"Really, I don't blame you for thinking the words are worthless - too worthless to listen to. Best to block them out before they can become obstacles to your conscience!" He still had nothing.

"I bet some time he'll finally gain some sense though, and stop visiting entirely. One day, he will forget you. Maybe to numb himself of his pains? Maybe when he finally learns to move on? You are something to him only as long as he lets that happen!"  
"... Can we go back?"  
Snake finally interrupted the barrage of bitterness.

"Back? Back home? Don't kid yourself that you have a home!"  
"Back home."  
"I don't know where your home is, Solid Snake!"  
"Take me back home, dammit."  
"Fine, fine! You're so naive and weak, it's shameful!"

He felt the cold touch tug at his shoulder roughly.

His eyes stayed on Hal in the gray world.

**\------**

Nomad's second storey swam back into the surroundings. As dark as ever.

Snake felt relief overpower him this time. He felt weak.

The ghost he had journeyed with was nowhere to be heard or seen.  
Good riddance?  
Definitely.

He blinked hard, and checked his watch.  
2:59 am.  
Time had moved when he'd gone, unlike before.

Everything that had happened whirled around in his thoughts in a frenzy.

But he knew now what to do.


	6. Just an Epilogue.

Hal very slowly creaked the metal door open, knowing that Snake would be asleep by now.  
It was nearly 4 am. So late!

The dinner had just gone on for too long... they hadn't started eating until 2, and no one got off the table until the clock had chimed a quarter to three.  
No one was as free from troubles now, even with relative peace in the world around them...  
Memories, worries, paranoia constantly plagued them.

He crept in, keeping his steps soft. Sunny followed not too far behind in a similar fashion.

They both immediately turned their gaze to the couch across the room.  
Someone was fast asleep upon it.

Everyone had wondered why Snake hadn't joined the dinner party. It was difficult for his two friends to somehow evade answering.  
They had been badly hoping to meet him. While they could.

Sunny yawned quietly. Hal patted her shoulder gently.  
She nodded, and sleepily made her way up the stairs.

Hal himself wasn't tired... rather, restlessness gripped him tightly.  
Maybe he should wear himself out...

He dragged his feet over to his desk, and turned on the dim lamp with a click.

Something was partly tucked under his keyboard.  
A... piece of paper?  
Hal would have ignored it, had it not been for the fact that it was littered with a scrawly handwriting, with scribbled off words at some places.

That was Snake's, wasn't it?

He sat back in his chair, and began to read in the low light.

**\------**

__

__

Otacon,

__

I will be honest. Before tonight, I would never have written this. But something happened. Something that changed my mind. On a lot of things.  
While it's difficult to tell you all that happened, I can tell some of what came of it.

__

I'm sorry. I know I have pushed you, and everyone I've known, far away from me. I am a war machine - made for war, suited for war. And war is, as you know, the antithesis of humanity.  
Just like war, I could not have traces of humanity within me. 

__

I knew that ever since my first day at the Green Cadets. And it didn't take me long to turn into stone fully.

__

I had many acquaintances. Several people I knew and worked with. A host of women who were in my life only for a few days - never to be mentioned once I parted ways with them.  
Very few came any close to my dark heart. Even fewer wormed a smile out of me.

__

I've never let myself be someone's, even if they made me theirs. i've been selfish in that regard.  
And maybe the guilt of it overpowered me tonight. What ever happened to me, could have come from that.

__

I doubt I can manage telling you more of what I feel. This is hard for me - no matter how much I wish this weren't the case. I'm so far gone.  
But I hope you understand what I mean.

__

I thank you for everything. For standing by my grumpy ass, and following it wherever it went. You needed support more than I did. But you still kept giving.

__

Happy Christmas.  
Tell Sunny I won't mind if she made eggs tomorrow.

**\------**

_\- Finis -_


End file.
